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Thirteen
Kit felt like he should feel a little more about getting Shelby to agree to marry him. Like he should feel triumphant or something. But he didn’t. Instead, he felt a vague sense of disquiet that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Because he didn’t feel... Like you did when you accomplished something. At least, not what he really wanted. But he couldn’t quite figure out what he wanted. He couldn’t really say either what had possessed him to tell her the story about Sophie. But nonetheless, the next day, they went to town with the appropriate documentation and went to the courthouse to file for a marriage license.
“Getting married again,” the older woman in the register’s office said, smiling at Shelby. “I’m so happy for you, honey.”
“Thank you,” Shelby said, her cheeks going dark pink.
“We’ll want to come back and do the thing in three days,” Kit said.
“Not a problem,” the woman said. “There are plenty of spots available. Just call ahead, and Sherm will be happy to do the ceremony.”
“Great,” he said.
“Boy, your families really did get rid of that feud, didn’t they?”
“Yeah,” Shelby said. “I guess you could say we did, Rose. Thank you.”
When they walked back out of the courthouse, onto the main street of Lone Rock, which didn’t hold a whole lot, Shelby looked tired. “I need to make a stop by Carefree Buffalo. They have some money for me. Because they sold a few of my pieces.”
“Yeah,” he said.
He walked down the street with her, and into a little shop that sold handmade knives, jewelry and leather goods.
There was a little corner with a variety of beaded items. Bracelets, earrings, barrettes.
“You did all these?” he asked, pointing to the display.
“Yeah,” she said, looking embarrassed.
The owner of the store came out, and Shelby greeted him, and what they were saying kind of faded into the background.
He watched her, and he watched her in a different way than he ever had. He knew her now. The rhythm of her. The way that she smiled, the way she laughed. The way she breathed. He had shared a bed with her last night, and he had never shared a bed with a woman all night. They hadn’t had sex in that bed, and it had felt as astonishingly intimate as what had taken place in the kitchen. If not more so. He just... When she turned to look at him, a lingering smile from her conversation with the shopkeeper on her face, his heart stopped. Everything stopped. He was in love with her. He was in love with her, and that was why he wanted to marry her. He’d never been in love. He’d never wanted to be. He thought it sounded like work, and heavy work at that. But it didn’t seem heavy, loving her. It was all in the showing up, every day. And it wasn’t carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. It was... Feeling like the weight of her and all her concerns wasn’t all that heavy. And like maybe his life wouldn’t matter if he was walking around carefree, with empty arms.
Maybe that was it. He just... He just wanted her. Her. And all of the baggage that came with it. And he didn’t think she loved him. She loved Chuck. And that was fair. Maybe he was way too tied up in some things that made her feel guilty for her to ever have feelings for him. Or maybe she would just never be in love again. But that didn’t change the way he felt. It didn’t mean he didn’t want her. Because he did. Dammit all, he did. But he knew he couldn’t tell her. Not now. Because she just agreed to marry him, and he didn’t want to rock that boat. So Kit Carson kept the truth of it to himself.
And it struck him, when he dropped her back off at her house, that he had probably loved her for a long time. And it had all just been about waiting for the right time. So he was still waiting for the right time. That was all.
Shelby didn’t tell anyone in her family that she was getting married today. They had taken the first available spot with the judge that morning.
Kit had not spent the night. He hadn’t the last two nights. They’d had dinner. They’d had sex. Because she couldn’t keep her hands off him. And there was a wild determination in her need for him. But now that she’d given in to it, she didn’t want to control herself at all. Was angry that she ever had. Now that she had given in, she wanted to do it over and over again. Because somehow it made... Somehow it made the fact that she was marrying him seem more distant.
But then he picked her up, and he was wearing a black button-down shirt, a black hat and a pair of dark jeans. And he was holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers, and suddenly everything seemed just a little bit too real.
“Hi,” she said.
“You look beautiful.”
But she’d worn jeans. And a tank top. And she suddenly felt like there was something wrong with her. But he said she was beautiful, and it made everything inside her hurt.
She didn’t wear her wedding ring anymore. But suddenly the idea of wearing a different one...
But maybe he didn’t have one. They hadn’t talked about rings. But he had brought flowers.
They got into the truck, and he put it in Reverse. “Did you get rings?”
“I did,” he said.
“Could we... Could we put them on now? Or after? But not during?”
